


Confrontations

by rei_c



Series: Stiles Stilinski: Vongola Sky [20]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alliances, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, First Meetings, Gen, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Sky Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: Stiles' first day of school goes okay. Afterwards -- everything gets complicated.
Series: Stiles Stilinski: Vongola Sky [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1155296
Comments: 38
Kudos: 381





	Confrontations

The first day of school goes by quickly. Stiles, buoyed by his flames and the confidence that Xanxus helped him grow over the summer, tries to present himself as approachable, less of a nerd than his old high school classmates might remember him as, but still smart and with understated influence and power. He thinks it works, mostly because he's invited to sit with what he's assuming are the popular kids at lunch: the rich, intelligent, sporty set that remind him of Jackson. They ask him a lot of questions about why he transferred, what he thinks of Devenford, what his situation is, and Stiles answers as honestly as possible -- honestly but sarcastically, because even though he's a Vongola now, he's still _him_. 

A lull in the conversation gives him the chance to ask about the cliques, and they're all pointed out to him -- smart kids, jocks, geeks, the student council and the mathletes, the scholarship kids and the legacies. There's one interesting group: a set of freshmen, jocks, for the most part, that keep to themselves in the corner of the cafeteria. To be honest, it's less the group that interests Stiles than it is one of its members, Brett Talbot, who the guy sitting across from Stiles says is the next lacrosse phenomenon, already on varsity's first line even though he's only a freshman. 

Brett Talbot, beta werewolf. 

He seems anchored, settled, and Stiles kicks himself for not asking the Varia spies for a list of everyone in Alpha Ito's pack. Stiles is relatively sure that Brett has to belong to her pack; he takes out his phone and texts the group of Varia who should know, asking for details. He puts his phone away again without waiting for an answer and pokes his bond to Hebe. She pokes back almost immediately, giving Stiles the impression of rolling eyes and satisfaction. Peter seems calm, focused, and Verde's a steady quiet in the back of Stiles' sky. 

Everything seems to be going well, almost _too_ well, and Stiles can't help waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

It starts to once school's over and the halls have cleared. Stiles is prowling around the school trying to get a feel for where everything is, filling out his mental map of the place -- and Hebe's not out until half an hour after Stiles anyway, so he has the time to spare. 

He's just coming out of the music room when his senses alert him to an oncoming threat. Stiles turns to face it, brings up his flame to his eyes and ears and nose, and somehow isn't surprised to see Brett come around the far corner. Brett seems startled to see Stiles waiting for him, though he covers the surprise and continues up the hallway to where Stiles is leaning against a bank of lockers, arms crossed lightly over his chest. 

"Stilinski," Brett says, once he's only a few feet away from Stiles. "You stink of 'wolves." 

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Guess we're not trying to be discreet here, huh," he says. Brett gives him such an unamused look that Stiles can't help but laugh. Once he's calmed down, he says, "I live with a 'wolf." 

Brett cocks his head. "Alpha?" 

There's a brief moment where Stiles thinks about playing the question off; he knows enough about lying-without-lying that he's sure his heartbeat wouldn't give him away. He doesn't know what Brett knows, though, what he's guessed at, what his talents are. 

Instead, he says, "Beta. Peter Hale. He belongs to me." 

It looks like Brett wants to take a few steps back but he doesn't. "Slave?" 

"Pack," Stiles says. He narrows his eyes, studies Brett for a moment, and decides to throw caution to the wind because there's something -- something _lonely_ about Brett, something inside of him that's searching for -- Stiles doesn't know what, but he knows he's right. "He's _my_ beta. And I'm his alpha." 

Stiles watches as Brett's nostrils flare, as his eyes shine gold, as he tilts his head back and opens his mouth to let Stiles' scent hit the back of his throat where he can taste it. 

"You don't smell like a 'wolf," Brett finally says. "Don't smell like any kind of shifter." 

"That would be because I'm not," Stiles says, and lets his eyes turn sky-orange. "Magic, of a sort. Enough to create a pack and maintain the bonds. Peter's my only 'wolf but he's not my only packmate." Stiles looks down at his watch, flame still focused on Brett in case Brett decides to do anything, and sees that Hebe's school is about to let out. He takes his phone out of his back pocket, checks the texts he's received and sends a quick one to Hebe, then taps his fingernails against the screen as he looks back up. "Spend time with me," he offers. "With my pack. And I'll come and meet Alpha Ito so you know I'm not trying to hide anything from _your_ alpha. I should have done that already," he admits. 

Brett studies Stiles, finally nods once, sharp. "I'll walk you out," he says. 

Stiles gives Brett a hard smile, moves until he's next to Brett. The two start walking together, side-by-side but with a substantial amount of space between them. "I have to go next door and pick up my younger packmate," Stiles says. 

Brett grimaces, says, "I have to go next door and pick up my sister." 

\--

As it turns out, Hebe and Brett's sister, Lori, are in the same class and apparently on the way to becoming fast friends. Hebe introduces Stiles to Lori with more excitement in her face and voice and flame than Stiles would have expected after her anxiety this morning. Lori's a lot calmer than Hebe, but she still grins wide as she introduces Hebe to Brett, says, "This is Hebe and she's from Italy but she's living with him, I guess," gesturing to Stiles. "Uh. You two -- know each other?" 

"We've met," Brett says dryly. "He's some kind of magical human alpha." Lori blinks and Brett goes, "Believe me, I know how ridiculous it sounds. But he has one of the Hales wrapped around his little finger, and it's not even Derek. It's the former left hand." 

Lori looks at Stiles and gapes. Hebe sidles over to Stiles, leans into him and lets out a sigh. "She smells like rain," Hebe murmurs. Brett pins narrowed eyes on her but Lori just seems confused. "I think we should court her. The grumpy one can come, too." 

Stiles gives into the urge to run his fingers through Hebe's hair; she bares her throat and her eyes go heavy-lidded in bliss. "They already have a pack, Hebe," he tells her. He edges his flame around Lori, watches as her eyes flare 'wolf-gold and she sways a little in the flush of his sky. "An _active_ rain. Huh." 

"What was that?" she asks. She moves to step closer to Stiles; Brett holds her back, baring his teeth at Stiles and Hebe. "No, stop," Lori says, swatting at Brett. "I want to know what that was. I _felt_ him." 

Stiles' eyes flood with his sky and he can feel the rush of sunny heat pouring off of Hebe as her flame spins up and around them both, clouding her eyes yellow. 

Lori's eyes, already glowing with the force of her beta 'wolf, shift and turn blue. 

"What the fuck," Brett says. 

Stiles takes his phone and dials Peter without looking away from Lori. When Peter answers, Stiles says, "Come to the school and cancel my afternoon appointments. We're going to go talk to Alpha Ito and I want you there." 

"What's happening, alpha?" Peter asks. 

Brett makes a noise. 

"Hebe thinks she's found our rain," Stiles tells Peter. "She's a 'wolf. Part of the Ito pack. Get here, Peter, as soon as you can." 

"On my way," Peter says, and hangs up. 

\--

It doesn't take too long -- maybe about fifteen minutes -- before an SUV careens into the parking lot. Judging by the way the Varia and Vongola don't react, it's Peter. 

Stiles spent the time listening to Hebe and Lori recount their day, exchanging wary glances with Brett every so often. It's clear to see that Lori adores Brett and has him wrapped around her finger; Stiles respects that. It's clear, too, that Lori's drawn to Hebe and, through Hebe, to Stiles. Stiles is mostly sure that it's because of the potential bond but he wonders if her 'wolf is telling her anything. Brett's -- cautious, body language saying that he's on guard and suspicious, even when he smiles at Lori or laughs at one of her stories. 

The caution kicks up another gear when Peter parks haphazardly across three spaces and jumps out of the SUV. His eyes are 'wolf blue, doesn't feel like he's even bothering to pull the shift back, and he tugs Stiles and Hebe away from Brett and Lori at the same time Brett pulls Lori back from them. 

"You're all right?" Peter asks in Italian, even as he's scenting Hebe and then Stiles. "Nothing happened? Damn it, I knew we should've stayed with the family; I _knew_ coming back here was --" 

Stiles cuts him off, curves one hand around Peter's neck and then brings Peter's forehead to meet his. "Hush," he says, also in Italian. Peter's eyes close, eyelashes fluttering just enough for Stiles to feel. "We're fine. We're both okay. All right?" 

Peter inhales deep, exhales deep as well, and tilts his head a little. The slide of his skin across Stiles' is familiar, comforting, and the fact that they're breathing each other's breath is as well. Stiles hadn't even realised he was tense, being away from Peter, but now that Peter's here, he can feel a small bit of stress lift from his shoulders. Peter, too, calms enough that when he opens his eyes, they're back to normal. 

" _Grazie, alfa_ ," Peter murmurs. 

It's still loud enough for Brett to hear, apparently, because he inhales sharply. 

Peter twitches, turns to stand in front of Stiles and Hebe, and says, "You didn't believe me when I called him that over the phone, did you."

"You mean it," Brett replies, eyes wide as his gaze flickers between Peter and Stiles. "He's actually your -- he's not even a shifter." 

"Both Hebe and I have packbonds to him as our alpha," Peter says. "If she's our rain," he adds, nodding at Lori, "then she can, too." 

Lori pipes up then, says, "I'm not going anywhere without Brett." 

Stiles can practically _feel_ Peter resisting the urge to lean over and pat Lori on the head. "No one would ask you to," he says. 

"But no one's making any decisions about this right now, anyway," Stiles says, firmly, elbowing Peter as he moves to stand next to his mist. "Not before we talk to Alpha Ito and fill her in on what's going on and definitely not before we explain who and what we are to these two. Informed choices, Peter." 

Brett, eyes still narrowed, harrumphs. Lori gives him a pleading look and he doesn't look at her but he _does_ , eventually give into it. "You can follow us there," he tells Stiles. "I'm going to call her from the car and fill her in. What should I -- what sort of -- should I tell her anything in particular?" 

Stiles gives Brett a small, sly smile. "You could tell her that Mieczysław Stilinski, heir-presumptive of the Vongola and alpha of the Vongola pack, is coming to negotiate the possibility of claiming a rain from her." Brett blinks, and Stiles laughs. "Or you could tell her that Stiles Stilinski, as in _Sheriff_ Stilinski, would like to meet her, he's bringing a Hale and a Cìnniri with him, and we'll figure things out from there."

"A _Cìnni_ \-- are you -- _shit_ ," Brett mutters, taking Lori's hand and starting to pull her back towards the Devenford student parking lot. "Maybe I won't give her any warning whatsoever. I sure as hell didn't get one." 

Stiles snorts, watches them go. Brett doesn't stop bitching the entire way to his car, though at a certain point, Stiles can't hear the words coming out of his mouth anymore. 

"He has promise," Peter says, into the silence, once Brett's driven out of the parking lot and away, towards Ito land. "He's brittle, though. Tense. Looks like he kept most of that from the girl." 

"Her name is Lori," Hebe says. "She's in my class. I like her." 

Stiles, his head tilted, is still facing away, in the direction that the car disappeared. The bond that Lori offered isn't as strong as the one connecting him to Hebe, definitely nothing as strong as the one between him and Peter, but it does match -- maybe even slightly surpass -- the compatibility he had with Erica. His sky flinches at the thought, a momentary reaction to the thought of his severed cloud bond that crosses over to the physical and his heart fluttering for a split second. 

He sees Peter's mouth open and Stiles cuts him off before Peter even has a chance to speak. "Let's go," he says. "We'll go through the Starbucks drive-thru and get some coffee on the way." 

That sufficiently derails Peter; he starts herding Stiles and Hebe to the SUV, muttering under his breath the whole time about Starbucks coffee being burnt and over-roasted and improperly made and how if Stiles wants coffee, they'll stop at the _real_ coffee shop and thank god the Vongola got that going before Stiles moved back because if Peter had to live with substandard coffee after getting used to Italy, and so on and so on. 

It's enough to distract Hebe, as well. Her face is turning bright red and she tries not to laugh, a few muffled snorts escaping her every once in a while. It leaves Stiles free to climb into the back seat and buckle up as he thinks, tries to figure out how to start such a fraught conversation with Alpha Ito. 

The two of them don't know each other and Stiles doesn't know if his association with Scott and Derek will make him look weak in her eyes. She's older, though, and at least somewhat connected to the wider world -- knowledgeable enough if her _beta_ knows what Peter Hale used to do years ago, for Talia and before the fire, and can recognise the name of the Cìnniri even though they've never left Europe. It's possible she knows of the Vongola, possible even that she's heard the rumours of a new Decimo being chosen. He _should_ have introduced himself to her when he arrived back in Beacon Hills; it would have been the polite thing to do. But he didn't, and he'll need to own that without looking weak, because he's going to ask her to release two of her betas to him without being able to offer anything but the gratitude of the next Vongola head in return. 

Fuck, he hates politics. 

\--

Peter does stop downtown at the Vongola coffee shop. He and Hebe disappear inside, leaving Stiles in the SUV with Vongola and Varia bodyguards outside for protection. Stiles has time to play out three different discussions in his head before his guardians come back. Peter offers him a _caffè freddo alla nocciola_ and a _panelle_ with a clump of fresh ricotta on top. 

Stiles grins, taking the drink and food with a murmured, "Thanks, Peter. This looks great." 

Hebe turns around, cream at one corner of her mouth, and says, "I said you'd be fine with a cream croissant, like I got, but Peter _insisted_ on the _panelle_." 

"Would've been happy with either, but a _panelle_ is one of my favourite afternoon snacks," Stiles tells her. 

"Eat and drink," Peter says, turning the car on and backing out of his parking spot as Stiles does as directed and takes an enormous bite of the fritter, the crunch of its shell contrasting perfectly with the ricotta and the slight tang of flavoured olive oil on top. "It's not gonna take us long to get to Satomi's." 

That dips the mood in the SUV just a little but Stiles closes his eyes and hums in satisfaction at the first hit of his iced coffee to the back of his throat. 

Hebe shoves the rest of her croissant in her face, nearly chokes at one point, but it's only a few minutes of quiet before she asks, "You have a plan, Stiles?" 

Stiles hums. "Sort of," he says. "We'll see." 

"If we have to, we can always just kidnap them," Hebe suggests. "I don't think Lori would mind. Brett wouldn't put up much of a fight against Peter, either." 

"We'll just hope it doesn't come to that," Stiles says. Hebe grins, noticing that Stiles didn't refuse to consider the option.

\--

Satomi Ito lives just on the borders of Beacon Hills in a house that seems large but not noticeably different from others in the area in style or even size. There are half a dozen cars and vans in the driveway, including Brett's, and a person standing on the front step. She's small, blonde, and she turns her head a little to say something to the people in the house when Peter parks. She doesn't take her eyes off of them, though. 

Peter gets out first, opens the back door for Stiles and stands in such a way that Stiles is forced to brush against him as he gets out. Stiles grins, then leans in, runs his nose along the line of Peter's cheekbone, nips at Peter's earlobe and whispers, "We'll be fine." 

"I know," Peter replies, just as quietly, before taking the opportunity of Stiles' closeness to breathe in Stiles' scent and leaves his own on Stiles' neck. 

Stiles lets Peter take his fill. When it seems as though Peter's done, Stiles straightens, steps back, and says, "Come on, left hand." Peter nods, squares his shoulders, and leads them toward the house as Hebe takes her place on Stiles' right. 

By the time they get to the bottom of the steps, the front door is open. No one's emerged from the house, though, so Peter addresses the blonde woman, tells her, "Please inform Alpha Ito that Alpha Stilinski of the Vongola comes in peace to speak with her." 

'If she's amenable," Stiles is quick to add. The blonde woman raises an eyebrow and Stiles can't help the grin that momentarily quirks up the corners of his mouth. "We're not going to barge in, but we are hoping she has the time to meet with us." 

"And who do you bring with you?" the woman asks. 

Stiles lifts his chin. "My left hand and mist, Peter Hale," he says, "and my beta and sun, Hebe Cìnniri. My lightning is otherwise occupied at this time." 

The woman nods, says, "You'll be outnumbered, Alpha Stilinski." 

"I have my mist and my sun," Stiles replies. "With them, I'm never outnumbered." 

He can feel the pride and possessiveness ring through his bonds with Peter and Hebe at that pronouncement and sends back as much confidence and trust as he can spare. 

A brown-haired man appears in the doorway, then, and says, "Alpha Ito will see you now." 

Stiles nods, says, "Thank you," and follows Peter up the steps, past the blonde, who sniffs at him, and into the house. 

The room is well-lit, the sparse furniture pushed back to the walls to leave lots of empty space. Stiles' quick scan takes in light wood furniture to match the floor, that the curtains are gauzy, tapestries and framed photographs on the wall. It evokes a peaceful feeling, one of space and freedom and comfort; the couch and armchairs he sees in the living room are deep, look like they'd eat a person alive. 

Their guide takes them towards the back of the house, into an office with bookshelves as walls, a small desk and a handful of chairs as well as a couple of stools. The woman standing behind the desk -- Alpha Ito -- isn't tall but she has a large presence. Stiles notes her cotton clothes and the elegant knot that her hair is tied up in, and then her red eyes. 

His eyes flare orange in response. He hopes she doesn't think less of him for coming to meet her in his school uniform.

There's a brief tightening of the skin around her eyes as she inclines her head, careful to keep her throat covered but not outwardly disrespectful. Stiles returns the gesture and moves to stand in front of a chair on his side of the desk. 

"Alpha Ito," he says. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I apologise for leaving it so long and then coming to you in such haste." 

It's a more formal tone than he'd like to use but his summer in Italy trained him well enough for diplomacy -- and nothing he said was a lie, so his heart remains steady. 

"Please, sit," Ito says, gesturing at the chair. Stiles sits, sees Hebe move to perch on a stool at his right even as Peter stands behind him, the comfort of his physical presence going a long way to calm Stiles from the anxiety of having a door at his back. "My betas came home with such a wild story," she goes on, once she's sitting as well, hands folded on the desk and an unreadable half-smile on her face. "Are you, in fact, the son of Beacon Hills' sheriff?" 

'I am," Stiles says. "Mieczysław Stilinski. I was born and raised here in Beacon Hills." 

Ito nods, and asks, "And are you, in fact, the nephew of Timoteo, Vongola Nono?" 

Stiles nods in return, says, "I am. My mother, Claudia, was his younger sister and a rain of some renown in her youth. This summer, my uncle named me his heir and both the former presumptive-Decimo and the head of the Varia have recognised me as such." 

"And you have pack bonds," Ito half-says, half-asks, something delicate entering her tone, more cautious and careful than the mostly expressionless voice she used to ask her first two questions.

After a moment of inner debate, Stiles says, "I won't steal your betas from you." He waits for the truthfulness of his declaration sink in, sees as the slightest bit of tension falls from Ito's frame. "Yes. I have pack bonds with two of my guardians. My third has not asked for a pack bond and I don't intend to pressure him into doing so. Peter and I formed a pack bond when we were courting for our guardian bond, and Hebe asked to join our pack shortly after. I know," he adds, slowly, "that it's not conventional for a human to be alpha, or to have a pack where the only 'wolf is a beta. But I'm not conventional, and neither is my pack. _Because_ I'm human, and _because_ my flame is the basis for our pack, we could never pack-bond someone unwilling. And because I'm _me_ , I'd never want to." 

Ito sits back in her chair, eyes narrowed a little. Stiles is curious to see where she goes next and likes her a little more when she goes for his metaphorical throat, asking, "Rumour has it you took a Hale beta to Italy with you but you exiled her." 

"We bonded before we left California and I broke the bond before we came back," Stiles says. "That, I'll admit. But despite our bond, I would never keep her from her alpha, and because of my position, I could never allow someone with shared loyalties to remain my guardian. Breaking the bond was painful but it was the right thing to do." 

The ache of Erica's loss thrums through him. He sees Ito's nostrils flare, wonders what she's scenting from him. 

"You have a huntress in your pack," Ito says, changing tack. "The Cìnniri heiress, if I'm not mistaken." 

"The former heiress," Stiles says. Ito nods again, accepting the clarification. "She ran away when she was told that her future including murdering 'wolves. I found her in a mafia stronghold and offered her a bond. Afterwards, she told me she'd kill me if I made her hunt 'wolves the way her family does." 

Ito turns to Hebe then, asks, "Is this true?" 

Hebe lifts her chin. "I was eleven when my family told me why they'd been training me. I ran away that night. The Cavallone family found me and when Stiles bonded me, he swore he'd never make me do what _they_ wanted." 

"And how do you feel about this?" Ito asks Peter. "A Hale, one whose family was killed by hunters and who clawed back from near-death to enact revenge -- you're comfortable with having a Cìnniri in your pack? You're _bonded_ to her?" 

"She's a Vongola now," Peter says, "just as I am." 

Ito hums. Her eyes flick back and forth between Stiles, Peter, and Hebe, for a long moment that stretches into a handful of minutes. Stiles doesn't mind the silence; it gives him time to think, to try and figure out where Ito's going with her questions. 

Asking him if he has pack bonds means she wants to know if he's the alpha of a _real_ pack, rather than one in name, and the way he answered implies he is and is willing to welcome more into his pack. She was more curious about Hebe than Peter, but Stiles can see where that makes sense -- with the Argents falling in influence and the Cìnniri family rising, him having connections to a hunter family of such power might mean he has a say in their actions, but Hebe's denial of her family and Stiles' correction of her status displays their split, not any kind of partnership. Hebe being so stringently against killing 'wolves, too, says more about the sides Stiles -- and therefore, the Vongola -- would take if any kind of shifter-hunter war broke out. 

Peter rebuking his name and heritage to claim pack with Stiles says more than all of that. 

"May I speak freely, Alpha Ito?" Stiles finally asks, breaking the silence. Ito gestures for him to go ahead, and Stiles pins his eyes on her, speaks as though he's walking through a minefield. "When I met your beta, Lori, my sky flame sensed an extreme compatibility with the active rain flame she carries. If you were comfortable releasing her from her pack bond with you, and if she wanted to join my pack, I wouldn't hesitate. I know, also," he goes on, "that Lori's not going anywhere without Brett. I would bond him into our pack as well, if _he_ wanted. But they are _your_ betas and, as I said, I'm not going to steal them from you. If you decided to keep them, I wouldn't fight you for them; no doubt I'll be able to find another rain -- maybe not one that fits so easily with me so naturally, but there are others. And no matter _what_ you decide, I would like to extend the possibility of an alliance with you and your pack." 

"You've given me much to think about," Ito eventually says, once she's taken in everything Stiles said -- and everything he didn't. "Thank you for your candor, Alpha Stilinski." 

Stiles grins. "And for your patience, Alpha Ito." 

They both stand at the same time. Ito doesn't move from behind the desk and Peter doesn't move from Stiles' back, so Hebe goes to the door, opens it, and leads them out. There are more 'wolves in the living room now and they all look up as Stiles moves through, eyes flashing gold, one after the other. No one says anything, through, not until they get to the porch and the blonde says, "A phone number for your pack, please, Alpha Stilinski." 

Peter rattles his off before Stiles has the chance to offer his, and then they leave.

\--

It's not a long drive back to the Stilinski house, maybe twenty minutes or so, but Hebe's asleep in the front passenger seat before they're even halfway there. Stiles leans his head back, stares at the ceiling as he loosens his tie and rolls up his sleeves. He's just as exhausted as Hebe but his mind's still racing, an ache from today's stress starting to build around his temples. He wants nothing more than to go home and collapse into bed, but there's a little homework to do, dinner to make, asking Hebe how her day went and then getting caught up on any progress Peter made reconnecting with old contacts, and he should probably meet with at least one cloud to keep the courting process going, especially with how much that broken bond's been aching lately. 

Ugh. Being a Vongola's the worst and he hates it. 

"No, you don't," Peter says. Stiles hadn't even realised he was speaking out loud. "And as far as I'm concerned, we can send someone out to pick up food. They have household accounts; we might as well take advantage. No one will begrudge one night of take-out." 

"I will," Stiles mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not a very good alpha if I can't even feed you, am I." 

Peter reaches his hand back and Stiles offers a foot, sighing in relief as Peter's fingers find his skin and start to drain the minor hurt from his headache. "You're still providing for us," Peter reassures him. "You're still the best alpha I've ever had." Stiles raises one eyebrow in disbelief, knows the scent flowing off him mirrors that, and Peter scoffs. "Talia," he says, quietly, "would never have trusted me at her back the way you did. And she never would have invited me to an alliance meeting, much less allow me to speak in one." 

"She was an idiot, then," Stiles says, bluntly. 

"For more than one reason," Peter agrees, tone mild. "I'm thinking Thai; how would you feel about getting Thai tonight?" 

Stiles huffs. "Thai sounds good." 

Peter grins, lets Stiles' foot go, with a glance in the rearview to check the expression on Stiles' face. "Take some Ibuprofen when we get back to the house and I'll drain whatever's still there before bed. We can talk tomorrow about my progress today and none of the clouds will care if you push back your courting schedule until tomorrow. They'll understand and the ones that don't can be culled from the potentials." 

"Good point." 

Stiles closes his eyes, searches out his bond with Verde. He'll call Verde tomorrow, fill him in on his meeting with Alpha Ito and the possibility of another young guardian. He's not entirely sure how Verde would react to Lori; Hebe was at least mafia, aware but still malleable and willing to bend to fit in with Stiles and his accumulated guardians, but Lori's another 'wolf, she doesn't seem as bright as Hebe, and she comes with baggage in the form of a tense, distrustful shifter brother. Stiles is going to have to find a way to spin it to make it palatable; maybe he can offer Verde another --

"Ah, _shit_." 

Peter's curse cuts off Stiles' train of thought and he sits up, leans forward, as the SUV slows to a crawl. When he sees who's sitting on the front step to the Stilinski house, Stiles completely agrees. 

"Fuck," he says. 

The SUV pulls into the driveway, which is when Stiles remembers that his Jeep's still in the Devenford parking lot. "You're gonna have to take us to school tomorrow," Stiles says as Peter's leaning over to wake up Hebe by running his fingers through her hair. "And why don't you stay in the car for a couple minutes, okay?" Peter gives Stiles a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder and Stiles rolls his eyes. "I'm not ashamed of you, idiot. I just want to get through this without any bloodshed. Give me a chance to calm him down." 

Peter begrudgingly agrees and Stiles jumps out of the backseat. As he shuts the door, moves up towards the step and towards Scott, he curls his flame through his heart, uses it to even out his heartbeat. That'll give him the freedom to lie to Scott without getting sold out by any jumps or skips -- not that he's planning on lying, exactly, but --.

Scott stands up, eyes the SUV and then Stiles, takes in the Devenford uniform, and says, "I guess I know why you haven't been in school this week." Ah, right -- Stiles had forgotten in all the anxiety of going to a new school but the public schools always start two or three days earlier than the private ones. 

"Could've called," Stiles suggests, mildly, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his feet. He can feel Peter's displeasure at how casually Stiles is acting; they both know Scott poses a potential threat and having his hands in his pockets isn't giving Stiles much time to react if he needs to. Stiles has faith in his friend, though -- enough faith that Scott won't start anything in the front of sheriff's house, with Peter and all of Stiles' neighbours as witnesses, anyway. "I didn't hear from you all summer. I guess I -- I mean, I didn't think you'd miss me."

Stiles makes sure his voice sounds thready and lets his eyes dart away from Scott a couple times, looking at the ground as he finishes. Acting has never really been his strong suit but Luss taught him a few things and he's always been good at telling _Scott_ the truth when it suits him. He really _didn't_ think Scott would miss him, and Scott really _hasn't_ tried reaching out to him at all. 

It hits Scott the way Stiles thought it would. Scott's eyes go wide and he moves as if he'd like to take a step forward, eyes darting to the SUV -- and Peter -- and stopping mid-movement. "That's not -- I'm sorry," Scott says, fast. "Between summer school and Isaac and working with Deaton and -- and what happened at the end of school, I -- I'm sorry. I never thought -- I didn't -- I'm _sorry_." 

"Hey," Stiles says. "It's okay, y'know? I had stuff, too. And, uh," he adds, gesturing at the SUV, "you weren't the only one dealing with other things." 

He doesn't turn as he hears car doors open and close, just watches Scott's face. Scott sees Peter first, expression holding something of disgust and fear both, but then he sees Hebe and his eyes go wide, his mouth drops open, and the aborted step he wanted to take before gets made now, before, it seems, he can stop himself. 

"Oh my god," he breathes. "Stiles, who -- she looks just like --." 

Scott trails off as Hebe comes to stand next to Stiles, wriggles under his arm so she can press tight against him. Scott looks struck dumb and doesn't even glare when Peter comes to a stop on Stiles' other side, Stiles' backpack slung over one shoulder.

"This is Hebe," Stiles says. "She's my family. She -- I thought the same thing, the first time I saw her. Hebe, this is Scott." 

"I don't like him," Hebe says, in Italian, much the same way she'd laid an instant judgment on Lydia. Peter snorts, murmurs something about liking how blunt she is when it's not worth wasting time on someone.

Stiles, for his part, swallows back a smile and tells them both, "Why don't you go inside and order dinner? You know what I like and I know we're all hungry. The sooner we order, the sooner it'll be here." 

Hebe rolls her eyes, Peter does the same, but they both go around Scott and inside, leaving Stiles and Scott alone -- apart from the Varia and Vongola scattered in cars and houses up and down the street. Scott doesn't notice them, though, or at least doesn't act like he notices. Stiles moves, elbows Scott, and sits down on the step. Scott sits down a second later, a little heavier but no less tired. 

"I _did_ think about calling," Scott says, quietly. "And texting, or chatting, or -- but before I knew it, school started up and I thought I'd see you, but I didn't, and this is the first chance I had to get away." 

Stiles nods. He believes Scott, he does, but it just -- hurts. Stiles never reached out, either, but he was waiting for Scott, waiting to see if -- if he was worth it to Scott, if Scott would even miss him. Guess he has an answer. It took months but Scott eventually _did_. 

"She looks just like Allison," Scott goes on. "I don't -- she's your family?" 

"My ward," Stiles says. "Her and Peter are both living with me and dad. And -- yeah. She's -- her family's related to Allison's, way back when. When I first met her, every time I looked at her, the first thing I saw was Allison. But she's a lot different. She's a lot -- she's a lot _better_." Scott sits up at that, looks at Stiles and opens his mouth to argue, but Stiles cuts him off, asks, "Do you know what happened? Before the house burned?" 

Scott frowns, shakes his head. "Nothing? The investigation said it was an electrical fault, started in the basement." 

Stiles gives Scott a hard smile. "Just like they said about the Hale fire, huh?" 

"Are you -- are you suggesting -- what are you suggesting?" Scott asks. 

"That night, during the game," Stiles says, looking at the ground, left hand picking at the skin around his right thumbnail, "Allison shot Erica and Boyd while they were trying to leave town. She kidnapped them, with a couple hunters, and took them back to the Argent house where her grandfather tortured them. I know you don't believe it," Stiles says, "but we both know how crazy Gerard was, and Allison wasn't in a good place after her mom died. He took advantage of that. He was good at taking advantage -- you _know_ I'm not wrong." 

Scott doesn't argue. Instead, he asks, "How -- how do you know that?" 

Stiles lets out a deep breath. "I was there, too," he says. "Gerard and a couple flunkies took me after the game, because Erica and Boyd weren't giving them any info. Allison -- I don't know if she saw me when they took me in but we got out right before the house blew up so if she was caught in the fire, then she was there while I was screaming every time Gerard hit me and tasered me."

"Allison wouldn't do that," Scott says, immediately. "There's no way she knew. If she heard you, she would've stopped it." 

"If she'd heard _you_ , she would've," Stiles says, gentle even in his disagreement. "But Gerard fucked with her and I was never -- she didn't really like me. I don't think she would've stood up to Gerard for my sake, especially if he told her that I might be hurt but wouldn't end up dead." Stiles weighs what he's about to say next, finally just thinks _to hell with it_. "If I'd seen her, I would've gotten her out. For you. But I didn't, and for how that hurt you, I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry her family died. They were all terrifying and they would've killed you, given half the chance, so I'm glad they died before the chance to hurt you presented itself."

Scott takes that in. It's quiet for a few minutes, only broken up by the noise of Stiles scratching his knee, the rasp of his nails against the fabric of his uniform trousers. 

"I spent time with Isaac this summer," Scott finally says. "Talked about the 'wolf stuff with him. It was -- good. But he's not you. I'll try and do better, okay? I promise." 

"Me too," Stiles lies, leaning over and pushing his shoulder against Scott's. He'd hoped, however minutely, that the part of him that's alpha might feel a connection to Scott but there's nothing. It makes sense, it doesn't surprise him, but it does hurt, just a little. "You wanna come in for dinner?" 

Scott's nose wrinkles. "With _Peter_? Nah. But maybe one night you can come over for dinner?" 

Stiles doubts the invitation will present itself. Melissa's never had much for her grocery budget and feeding Scott and Stiles both once or twice a week was a strain on her, he knows that. Having Isaac around, two teenage werewolves, can't have been easy. Melissa's never really liked him, either, always thought he was a bad influence on Scott, hated the way he got Scott into trouble and never appreciated that he dragged Scott right back out of it, too. "Yeah," he says. "Sounds good." 

He hates himself a little for lying -- but only a little. 

Scott stands up, pulls Stiles up as well, and then Scott pulls him in for a hug. He scents Stiles, as well, and leans back with a conflicted look on his face. "Smell like Peter," he says, "and other stuff. It's weird." 

"Sorry, Scotty," Stiles says. "Guess you'll have to get used to it." 

"Ugh," Scott says, and claps Stiles on the back a couple times before disengaging and heading down the driveway. "I'll call you!" 

Stiles watches Scott go, head tilted to one side, and thinks, _No, you won't._

\--

He goes inside, is instantly scented by both Peter and Hebe, and sent upstairs for a shower and comfortable clothes. By the time he's done, dinner's arrived and unpacked onto the table. Dad gets home halfway through curry puffs and drunken noodles, _pad kao_ and dumplings, and he's sitting down with them a few minutes later, digging into his salmon _chu chee_ with a smile on his face. 

Stiles misses Scott but he knows Scott will never accept the Vongola, and Stiles wouldn't trade his family for anything, not even Scott. 

"So," his dad says, looking at Stiles and Hebe, "how was your first day of school?" 

Hebe immediately starts recounting her day, almost minute-by-minute, and Stiles grins, takes another bite out of a dumpling. 

Yeah. He wouldn't trade this for the world.


End file.
